


Forever Young

by deacontent



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Growing Old Together, M/M, Parenthood, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, also they are BIG DORKS, chekov and sulu are such good dads, i thought the concept was really sweet and oh gosh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 11:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20134486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deacontent/pseuds/deacontent
Summary: As many years as Chekov and Sulu have been together, they have never strayed from their youth.





	Forever Young

**Author's Note:**

> i really think that chekov and sulu as dads is SO CUTE i had this idea and i really had to write it out, i hope y'all think it's as cute as i think it is LOL

Hikaru and Pavel were going to be young forever. 

That's how it seemed, anyway. Even with a child in their lives, the youth never left them.

They would walk to the park together, playfully kicking each other's ankles as Pavel held a seven-year-old Demora on his hip. They would pass people on the street who eyed them up and down with curiosity, some in annoyance and some in amusement. The three would sing a jaunty, old-fashioned little tune as they strolled, giggling to themselves whenever they would receive a particularly displeased look from a passer-by.

When they arrived, Hikaru would stand in-between his enthusiastic daughter and husband, pushing them both on the creaky swing set. _"Now I have a second child to take care of,"_ he would comment, or something along those lines, rolling his eyes with deceptive irritation. Pavel would make faces at their daughter when they crossed paths, the expression changing with each swing.

Sulu was not so mature himself, a benefit of this being his aptitude at tag. Chekov always found himself becoming _it,_ whether it be from the likes of his lover or his ridiculously spry daughter. Demora was too fast for him to catch up with, and Hikaru always found some way to sit innocently on top of the monkey bars, watching his husband from above with nothing less than cockiness and amusement. Pavel was too short to jump up and reach him, and he could never seem to find out how Sulu had gotten up there. With enough whining, Hikaru would gracefully get himself down, not without hanging from his legs to offer Chekov a Spiderman kiss first.

On their way back home, they would stop by the little family-owned, twenty-first century style 'Ice Cream Shoppe' in the neighborhood. Demora always got a scoop of rainbow sherbet on a lemon waffle cone, while her fathers would get cookie dough (Chekov's absolute favorite) and green tea, respectively. The Russian would attempt to lick Sulu's ice cream but was never successful, always being swatted away, even when Sulu wasn't looking. By the time they returned home, Pavel would have to wipe melted ice cream off of both Hikaru and Demora's faces, granting them each a kiss on the cheek after he was done.

They always made a ruckus in the kitchen. Hikaru would set a radio on the counter, playing nostalgic tunes from both him and his husband's youth, and they would get to work. Demora sat on the counter next to the radio, bouncing jauntily to the music and dutifully mixing any bowl her fathers would hand to her. 

In retaliation for his husband's loud and vivacious singing, Hikaru would stick a finger into the batter and promptly transfer the mixture to the tip of Pavel's nose. The Russian would stick his tongue out at him and pour a handful of flour into Sulu's hair when he wasn't looking—much to their daughter's delight—and Sulu would shake his head like a wet dog and get flour over all three of them. Pavel always said that having fun while cooking always made the end product taste better.

After dinner, they would get Demora nice and comfortable and ready for bed. They took turns telling her a story every night, each one a retelling of one of their past adventures (with slight dramatization, of course). 

Pavel's storytelling was so animated it almost kept Sulu on the edge of his seat. He would lean forward, nearly whispering the suspenseful parts, then crescendoing into the dangerous parts, using sound affects every chance he got. Hikaru would watch his dork of a husband endearingly, applauding with Demora when he finished. Chekov would bow proudly at the reception.

Sulu liked to lay in the backyard with the love of his life snuggled up at his side, reciting and pointing out as many constellations as he could see, tracing them with so much familiarity that it seemed as though he had done this countless times before (and he had). Chekov would recall the times they had travelled by each asterism—as many times as his exhaustion would allow him to—and detail each memorable event he could think of.

_"I remember,"_ Pavel would begin through giggles, pointing up at the night sky, _"when we were passing through Orion on the way to Rigel VII, and Captain Kirk had fallen asleep at his post, and you drew all over his face in permanent marker…"_

This was when Hikaru would chime in, Chekov's contagious giggles influencing his own, _"Don't pretend to be innocent, you were the one who gave me the marker!"_

They would willingly throw themselves into a fit of undying laughter, Pavel burying his face farther into Sulu's neck and incoherently adding to the story through hiccups, and as shielded his words were by his giggles, Sulu understood. They would laugh for as long as their lungs would allow it, until their sides would hurt and tears would find their way down their cheeks and their minds grew foggy. They would fall limp against each other, almost too tired to get up, but the thought of a warm bed was more welcoming than they could ignore.

So they would pull themselves to their feet with moderate difficulty, holding each other's hand as they hurried to the bedroom, trying desperately to get away from the cold, and falling dramatically onto the mattress as soon as they could seize the opportunity. They would bury themselves under the covers, cuddling up to each other with dizzy heads and warm hearts. Sulu liked to run his fingers through his husband's dark brown hair—Chekov always seemed to be fond of the feeling—while Pavel would rub gentle circles into Hikaru's side with his thumb, sometimes mixing in different patterns, tracing words of love onto his skin. They would look in awe at each other, wondering how they both got to be so lucky, and they would fall asleep together, looking forward to another day.

Pavel never grew tired of it, and neither did Sulu. They never grew out of the puppy love phase. Hikaru would always find himself watching Chekov, adoring the way his eyebrows would knit together when he was trying to figure something out, like when they were attempting to build a piece of furniture together and Pavel could not, for the life of him, find out how to execute one of the steps. Another thing Sulu adored was the way the left side of Chekov's upper lip would pull up as he spoke, a tick that followed him through his entire life.

Pavel would find himself doing the same, unable to take his eyes away from his husband every morning, when his hair was messy and he was reading in-between sips of tea. He was the same as he was when they were young, every little mannerism remaining, the only thing changing being the amount of years they were together.

The years tallied up and up. With each orbit around the sun, they loved each other more and more. No matter how much the creases in their skin grew deeper, and no matter how gray their hair became, Pavel and Hikaru remained forever young.


End file.
